A weekend of wins and losses


Sooooo England failed to lift the Euro2020 cup at Wembley. What a missed opportunity! Ah well. The English can be very mouthy when it comes to their football and have a way of extolling their players as if they were gods and their team, the best on Earth. The last time they hosted in 1996, England reached the semi-final but lost to Germany on penalties – with Gareth Sothgate, the current coach also missing his spot kick.

Of course, I was totally against England winning. I could only imagine the obnoxious headlines –



It did not go unnoticed that the three players who missed their penalty kicks were black. And knowing what an unforgiving and speckled with racists lot the English fans can be, all I can say is good-luck to Rashford, Sancho and Saka (they all sucked though!)

In other good football news, Hearts of Oak mathematically won the Ghana Premiership. 

I personally had a good weekend, catching up with friends from undergrad days. Those social gatherings are a mixed bag. They can be really good when you connect and reminisce on how great your Uni. days were. They are also at times depressing when it hits you that all this talk of old school music, Nokia 3310s, Motorola Razor phones and extinct nightclubs means you are slowly but surely…dying.

I am not going to lie, but seeing more and more salt and pepper hair or fast receding hairlines on friends who once had full heads of jet black hair and rocked serious afros keeps reminding me of our frail mortality.

Of course, there are always the one or two frigging vampires who never seem to age and actually look younger each time we meet. Now they just ruin it for everyone.  I usually sidle over to those Dorian Grey types and nonchalantly ask them about their diet or exercise routine. Honestly, I think they are just blessed with good genes.

Some of us are fighting a losing battle. I curse my fat, balding uncles and my progenitors for the bad genes they bestowed onto me. We usually end up deleting pictures so many times at these reunions, as people keep whining about how fat they look or that it is their wrong side (whatever that means). I usually start shortly after on a fad diet or some half assed workout regime, before I inevitably fall off the wagon. “Chale you can’t fight age. Embrace it” a wise friend once told me. 

Right now I am looking at the gym bag on the floor and thinking of the salad I have ordered for lunch waiting in the fridge and wonder whether I am going to win or lose this time around.

Of Traffic, Motor Riders and Our Forever Clueless Leaders!

Traffic was insane this weekend! And Accra traffic on a regular day is already no joke.But with Ghana hosting the 59th Heads of States Meeting, I should not have been surprised. I had not bothered to read what those potbellied, half-senile old farts were meeting about this time. Covid? The Single currency for Ecowas? Mali ? Who cares. Really? How does that help me any of us? Especially since they haven’t even been able to manage their own problems back home.

Accra traffic -  courtesy of  Accra Traffic Update

Many parts of Accra had come to a complete standstill as promised by the communiqué sent out by the Ghana Police earlier. Motorists were advised to find alternate routes. Thank goodness for Google maps and the meandering bypasses led by trotro drivers whenever there was traffic…. I have learnt a few of these over the years.

I find it terribly sad that our lives are always inconvenienced because of mismanagement, corruption, disorganization, just blatant incompetence and we are left on our own to figure out alternatives. This sums up a lot of our problems as a nation. No electricity? That’s on us to find an alternative solution like generators  AKA “I Better Pass My Neighbour”, inverters, rechargeable lamps. Bad roads?  Those that can, invest in a 4×4, look for land where there is a decent road and pray a big man moves into the neighbourhood so it’s maintained. No water? Get a borehole, harvest rainwater, pay for water to be delivered weekly etc. The list is endless and tiring! Our politicians don’t seem to care! And we are sadly being run and have always been by  a bunch of kleptocrats who are part of a Kakistocracy. I totally understand why people want to marry for papers or give birth to kids at all cost out of this cursed land. A meeting of heads of state from many failed nations in Accra to discuss how to solve regional problems. That’s a hoot! Since  they are all doing so well in their fiefdoms. 

Let’s forget the half-senile old farts and get back to my weekend, shall we? I have no idea what demon possessed me to go meet friends this Saturday morning, but I did. I was late for the meeting as was pretty much everyone else because we were stuck in traffic and in my case, for a good couple of hours. On my way back home around the palace mall area, a motor rider, whom I had seen in my rearview mirror earlier,  drove in between my car and a small van. The space was obviously not big enough for even a bicycle to squeeze through but this smart ass decided to wish his motor bike between my car and the small van. I heard the saddest sound ever as my front bumper was ripped off! The rider looked back, as my mouth opened in horror, confused and still processing the most stupid move I had ever witnessed on the road. The rider just shrugged, weaved through two cars and rode off happy with himself to have escaped invectives and no doubt some hefty slaps, if I’d had my way. I felt so crestfallen not to have been able to unleash the kraken within, on him. I mulled later, on what I could have done differently. As for the rider, from my experience save for the slaps, and possibly confiscating his worn-out Boxer bike, there would still have been no joy when it came to righting the wrong he had done. I parked on the side of the road, adjusted the bumper to try and keep it from dragging on the street as I continued heading home, thinking of the money that I had to suddenly cough up on Monday morning to fix this mess. On the way, I saw motorists narrowly avoiding pedestrians and those accursed riders coming from the left, the right, overtaking from both sides in the full glare of the police. I thought earlier this month of the statements by both the the Minister of Interior and the IGP after the bullion robbery.

“What we should know is that the criminals continue to change the modules and we have to be changing with them and the police is doing all it can. We have not lost control. I always want to emphasise that, we need to go to neighbouring countries to see what is happening there, but we are not in the same league with them.

We want to do better than we are doing now, but believe me, Ghana is safe; that is why all the other countries are running to Ghana.”

The Interior Minister, Ambrose  Dery

I’ve already forgotten the details of the IGP’s statement just that it was an equally useless one where he basically compared Ghana to other countries and said the only place that does not have crime is heaven.

Of course, In any right-thinking country both officials would have resigned for such stupid comments but here in Ghana we will find an alternative route, keep them, and manage the problem…. until we go to another country and see or to heaven!

And how was your weekend….mine was sucky through and through!

AND HOW WAS YOUR WEEKEND?  The Septugenarian, the Absentee Farmer and many broken promises

This weekend promised to be exciting and it was! Thanks to Auntie Coro, I haven’t been out as much as I used to. I have sadly, become hooked to tv shows that are of no value to my hungry life in Accra. Binge watching Lucifer, Hemlock Grove and other mindless series have yet to put food on my table.

I had decided years ago, not to listen to an old man who implored me not to go into farming. According to him, farming was tough and with my day job it would be near impossible to be a successful farmer. 

Thanks to this bad combo of Covid and Netflix I have found myriads of excuses not to go to my farm and this Saturday a surprise visit revealed what I feared would happen. My farm was on the brink of collapse. The Moringa crops had still not germinated and the factotum who served as my farm manager’s excuse was lack of rains. He essentially blamed God for our failure. 

I patiently waited for the eejit to explain the major and minor rainy seasons to me for the umpteenth time and calmly reminded him that his excuse was 2 months old – I had since ‘borrowed’ an 18 feet water hose from my parent’s place and brought it to the farm. I pointed out where the said water hose was stored plus the overhead water storage tank, I’d had installed. According to him the water hose had been in storage for so long, that it was irreversibly knotted. I then proceeded to spend the next half hour with him and two other farm hands to unknot the labyrinth-like water hose. All the while, I made a mental note to do better. I had been warned that the worst thing I could do was to be an absentee farmer…but hey that’s me. I just love rediscovering the fucking wheel.

I felt so down with the situation on the farm I ended up Netflixing and chilling with some comfort food I bought on my way home to drown my sorrows.

Man, this grownup thing called life sucks, big time!

The next day I had a seventy-year old’s birthday to attend at a small catholic church in Weija. I had not been to church in a while, was fashionably late and had to sit outside.

The money from the Catholic coffers had obviously not reached this church. I was later told by a staunch catholic that these days it was every church for himself. I did enjoy the service tremendously and was really glad about the camaraderie extended to me as a first time worshipper there. As is wont of me, I made an empty promise to donate something to this church when I was one-day rich and famous. I took several pictures with the seventy-year-old birthday girl on my pretentious I-phone 12 Pro Max that had put a dent in my farm budget.

From there it was off to Serenity Beach at Kokrobite for a sumptuous meal.  I stuffed myself silly and was positive I had gained 5 kilos by the end of that debauchery. Eating and drinking with friends and family made me happy and depressed at the same time. I thought of life and seventy years. Would I finally have a Moringa Plantation by then? Would I be obese with nothing but broken promises and empty dreams – I drank a few shots of WoodFord reserve (Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey) to drown such sad thoughts.

And for only the third time in my life, I hijacked that bottle of whiskey from the party and went home to continue drowning my sorrows. 

I had a call from my farm manager to tell me in an annoyingly happy voice, as if he was the rainmaker, that it was now raining at the farm, and yes he will continue planting the Moringa seeds the very next day. I silently thanked God for rain and drank to the health of my seventy year old aunt plus other good things life had to offer. 

Don’t you really hate those weekends where the Universe is obviously sending some deep message but your head is clouded by whiskey and not able to make sense of it? No? Just me then?

And How was your Weekend?

AND HOW WAS YOUR WEEKEND? The 2nd Dose is Sweeter than the First

Why do Ghanaians like queues like this?

I woke up with a start on Friday, had one of those ablution type baths, rushed into the car, holding a piece of a week old bread and an expired Yomi yogurt. I had received a cryptic message from VaccineUpp a couple of days earlier that read –  “A second dose of coronavirus vaccine is available for you. Come with your vaccination card to Achimota Hospital on 2021-05-21” .

I won’t be joining the army of the walking dead…yay!

I got to the Achimota Hospital at 6.30am only to realize, everyone had the same idea and I was about the twentieth in line to a fast growing queue. As usual people would come up and ask who the last person was, move to the person and indicate they were after them. I quickly made a note to myself, that I was after the old lady with the red scarf. 

We waited patiently till half past 8, when a guy who looked like he had survived covid-19 a few times came over to check cards, using his phone to make sure that our names were indeed in the database. A nurse with a high-pitched voice reminded people who had not eaten to do so.


I remembered the questionable bread and expired yoghurt. I rushed to the car wolfed down my horrible victuals and got back to the line. I could not locate the old woman with the red scarf or the guy with the blue oversized shirt…My place in the line was now uncertain. As the line became more orderly, I gave up my chair occasionally to a few of the Septuagenarians and Octogenarians that kept showing up as the line moved ever so slowly along…thanks to the idiot savant checking names on his phone!  An older looking man sidled up just as I made myself comfortable on a plastic chair.

Dagnaggit! Fuck the book “Courtesy For Boys and Girls!”

I justified my resolve to sit in the chair by surmising he was around my age and had just not taken very good care of himself….alcohol and drugs will do that to you.

After five minutes of explaining to an older gentleman that I most certainly was not jumping the queue and was indeed at my rightful place in line and when I thought all hope was lost the old woman with the red scarf came and saved my life, she had stepped away and was back and remembered that I was right behind her. Thank God for not afflicting her with Alzheimer’s or any of those memory loss diseases that old people are wont to get. I flashed her a smile of gratitude….underneath my face mask.

After my shot I went to finally look for proper food – waakye! And then it was off to buy a black and white shirt for a funeral of an Octogenarian in Kumasi, the next day.

People say the 2nd shot does a number on you. Not me! I was like superman miles away from Kryptonite. I did all the rounds a person could do in a day especially with my resolve to not step in the office. In my opinion, there are some days where one is entitled to do this – Weekends, holidays, election day, the day after election and the day you take your covid shot.

I went to bed at 10pm because I had a plane to catch at 6.40 am the next morning.

I jumped out of bed at 5.30am. How did I miss my 4:45am alarm!?

So for the second time in two days, I did that 5 minutes express bath and sped to the airport in a record time that would have made Hamilton envious. Or perhaps Verstappen. He did win Monaco this weekend. I got in 5 minutes after check-in was closed and none of my charm worked on those AWA cretins. I was denied boarding and was on standby for the 8am and then 9am flights. It dawned on me that perhaps Kumasi was not in the cards this weekend. I went home super tired. Seemed like the 2nd shot was in fact doing a number on me.

And how was your weekend?

10 Tips during this Lockdown

So, when the old man announced a partial lockdown on 27th March 2020, I knew it was going to be an issue. At least a week before the partial lockdown social media was ablaze with proponents of a “full lockdown” and those who argued that a full lockdown was impossible and unfair. Those in favour of a partial lockdown argue, with good reason, that the majority who live from hand to mouth would be adversely affected by a full restriction on movement.

The lockdown has been extended by a week with many people getting more and more restless whilst others are happy for this extended office holiday depending on their work schedule.

 As we spend almost three weeks in lockdown and possibly a few more, here are some tips to my “f(r)iends out there:


A lot of people stockpiled food and other essentials for the uncertain times ahead. Unfortunately bulk food and being idle can be a disastrous combo, especially with little physical activity. Please guys, the directive was to be in the house.  Do not turn into the house.

Yes, some wicked vendors are organizing pizza and other junk food at the cheapest prices ever, with promotions and free delivery…But be strong!


On the flip side, there are a whole bunch of normally inactive people who suddenly want to hit the road and do 5ks daily. Abeg, professional athletes all around the world are chilling at home, the Olympic sef have been postponed. Relax do not be a covidiot. Tell you what. Close your eyes…and dream of running.


Some are determined to watch the entire catalog of shows on Netflix during this time. Yes, do watch all your favorite shows but after Auntie Coro kicks the bucket life will go on.

So come out of this with other skills instead of knowing all the characters in Money Heist. Those guys robbed a bank and have cash. Do you have a stash somewhere?


Please do call even though three weeks is not forever. However, I do not need to see you on video every time we are on the phone. I still remember how you look like (I see your airbrushed face on your DP). The incessant video calls are getting creepy….especially those from my boss!


I see people doing fun challenges and I watch, and I like. If you do not have any fun challenge to do, do not be pressured. Be like me. Watch and like…Not all of us have talents.


Please and thank you.  This one is important! 5G has nothing to do with Covid-19. The fact that it is coming from a developmentally challenged pastor who could predict everything but could not see Auntie Coro’s visit in 2020 does not make it more credible. I will block you one time if you send me such nonsense.

slave ship to the Americas

For those of you also saying Africans are immune. Um, no we are not. We are not that special. lf we were, some of us would not have been shipped like sardines years ago and others left behind but still suffering in Africa. Before Auntie Coro came to town we were queueing at every embassy to run away since the slave ships do not take us anymore. I heard of some of you that even took your passports to church to have your lying pastors “pray visa” onto it. Just follow the directives….stay at home and hopefully in Ghana after this mess.


After Auntie Coro leaves town, many bosses will start wondering who to axe and who is indeed essential. This situation has hit businesses hard. For those fortunate enough to work at home, have a good turnaround time with your deadlines, attend zoom meetings on time and be creative under the circumstances. Also,pick work calls (even from that annoying boss). These actions might save your job in the near future.


Enough with the unnecessary props to teachers.  When I pay for takeout fried rice, I expect exactly that: fried rice. Not rice water. If you are teaching your kids and they are not getting it, thank God, you found out early……. the teachers could not get it right either and guess what? You were paying them all this time for nothing. You are doing a good job teaching them at home and they will be all the better for it.


Despite my jab at the overzealous wannabe athletes, we really do need to keep fit. Please do a few sit ups, jumping jacks, skipping rope etc every day if you can. You really want to stay healthy throughout all this.  You do not want to run away from Auntie Coro and develop other conditions due to inactivity.


Ten signs its time to quit your job


  1. When you wake up reluctantly and wonder this would all end

Screen-Shot-2013-11-13-at-12.02.21-AMSometimes you wake up and just wonder, “Do I really have to go through this again?” “Is all the grief and misery that come with this job worth it?” If it was school you would certainly have played hooky. In school it would be your grades that would suffer, in the real world you would get fired. You can’t be sick every week, you cannot ‘kill’ another member of your family each week. Truth is you have run out of excuses and you just are not feeling this job anymore. Last night you watched “Who Wants to be Rich” and wondered whether you should take your chances in front of Kafui Dei. After all, the questions are not difficult and you do have 3 life lines, plus if you won GH¢50,000.00 (damn!) that certainly beat the measly paycheck you got.  The what-if passes so fast but then reality hits you. “Tetteh Quarshie traffic here I come,” you mutter to yourself and head to the bathroom.

  1. When the same song or radio ad plays when you get to the work place (it means you leave home like clockwork. Bad sign!)

d50a99c915a1af8b4b755789ceaf6e55Sometimes I get to the same place or spot everyday and it is the same bloody advert on the radio. I could have sworn Kojo Oppong Nkrumah interviewed this person yesterday. I saw this same girl in the Red Hyundai IX35, and those annoying kids in the Hilux. It probably means you leave home like clockwork, chances are you will die, death knows where to find you at any given time (my opinion). So me I prefer to do late some days!

  1. When you keep looking at the time and you have only been at work for an hour.

hate-my-job-21You get to work and shortly after, you start looking at the time. When you go for a meeting, you get so excited that it took 3 hours and was so long and unproductive. It means you are getting closer and closer to closing time. Sometimes you look at the clock in your office and you are sure it is not working. Does 60 seconds still give you one minute or not? If you experience this everyday and get extra happy on Friday, it is time to say Hasta la Vista Boss!

  1. When you know who is hiring every week.

service_with_a_frown-resized-600I know this friend who is a walking almanac on who is hiring. When you know what positions are up for grabs each week in your industry, chances are that you are very restless and yes, you need to make that switch. I have another friend who has his CV on the phone all the time, he has applied to the Ghana Army, GIPC, GNPC, Foreign Affairs and every known bank in Ghana. As soon as he sees a job ad, he sends in his CV. In fact he is one of the “usual suspects,” he is at every job interview in his field.

  1. When your boss regularly makes “the I have a dream speech” and you are totally not moved.

MjAxMy0wMTY2ZjgxMzI4YjdlZDVjI remember my first job. The Boss gave us this speech that was a cross between one of Obama’s best speeches and Martin Luther’s “I have a dream speech”. I saw the most hardened have tears in their eyes, and foolishly I did too. Fast forward 3 years later, I see interns and newbies with tears welling in their eyes each time the boss makes this speech (meanwhile he has put on 20 kilos due to my hard work, changed his car a couple of times and bought his wife a new Santa Fe), and I see what this job has done to me, I couldn’t be bothered if fire gutted the entire work place. In fact it might be the highlight of my day. These newbie suckers fall for the “I have a dream speech” every time. Me? I mime as the boss speaks, heard it so many times, whilst looking at the watch. I mutter under my breath as he wraps up….in five, four, three, two, one….Thank God, that ordeal is over!”

  1. When at the end of the month you have saved… zilch

hate-my-job-262-i-hate-my-job-28-photos-29a81bc0-sz500x343-animateYou slave and slave away like a b*tch n*gger, and at the end of the month your salary can do three things – pay for food, utilities and transport (to work again) and not much else really. Things will not get any better. It is time to weigh your options and move on. Just when you are thinking whether you should quit your job, you see you pot bellied boss siddle into his E-class on his way to the gym.What are you waiting for?. Just quit already!

  1. When lunch time is the highlight of your day

a78ceceb14934b360c99eb2dd0e3b898Some people are happiest at lunch time because it means they can get some much needed fresh air, get some sunlight,  gallivant around for a bit, stretch their legs for a few minutes before getting back to the office and getting closer to that closing hour. I have had a colleague unconsciously grab my hands as we made our way back to work when lunch was over…like he wanted me to save him from something. Poor sod!

  1. When you get an offer that makes your present salary look like pocket change, it’s time to bounce. (Actually anything more than what you presently earn, means you gots to bounce)

f23530efcb9363b14dad3e73520d224bI got an offer once and the fuel allowance alone was as much as my current salary. I almost told my would be bosses that I could sweep, mop and do hand stands for them if they so wished. I got back to work and felt like I was being raped every time I was given work. That last month was one of the most difficult in my career. In fact the interview for the new job was my epiphany.

  1. When you leave the very second you are officially supposed to go home.

567bac6b2cffb91866660a5aae446499Some people like me do not believe in overtime. I have a simple philosophy “Do not do today what you can do tomorrow”. I remember, once upon a time, I actually had a career plan. I wanted to be a partner one day. Some people leave at 8pm or 10pm, me,5pm works just fine for me. The loser newbies enjoy leaving at 8pm. What idiot works for half the day anyways? I ignore the look of my bosses as I pack up and leave. Do they think that the paltry sum I take home entitles them to work me till I drop dead? They look at me like I broke some secret code as I march gallantly out. 8pm in the office on a Tuesday means I may miss part of the champions league and forfeit a cold beer with the boys. Let me see is my work really worth it… I don’t think so.

  1. When you hear that they are interviewing someone for your position.

im-quitting-to-pursue-my-dream-of-not-working-here--97d0fSome of us are slackers. Simple. We don’t grow in the job. I came into my job when it was cool to know DOS and word. I haven’t upgraded my computer skills since. Some people are dinosaurs, they are extinct but they do not know it yet. If you see your boss interviewing people for your post or a post you secretly covet, time is up!